Alone
by Wolfers
Summary: One shot. Remus Lupin after Sirius dies. Not AU this time. I know I've done it before, but I wanted to use something different in this one. I'm horrible at summaries, so please R & R.


Disclaimer: I do not own Remus Lupin, Prongs or Padfoot. I don't even own the Shrieking Shack. All of this is based on J.K Rowling's imagination.

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Remus Lupin sat on the bed in the Shrieking Shack silently. There was no noise. No laughter. No yells. Not even the sound of others being quiet. Just him and his sorrow. And tears.

He hugged his knees, staring into space, tears flowing freely. He and his friends (_no_ _more_) had made this room quite comfortable when they had been at Hogwarts. Prongs (_never_ _again_) had brought an old table his mom had been planning on throwing out. Padfoot (_nevermore_) had stolen a few chairs from his mother. Wormtail (_no longer_) and brought a few chipped plates and cups.

But there was no one to fill the chairs. He was harshly reminded of the muggle play _Les Miserables. _He was Marius, sitting where his friends would no more.

_Empty chairs at empty tables_ . . .

They would never laugh here again. Or talk. Or fight. Or grin.

_Where my friends will meet no more_ . . .

Padfoot! Prongs! Wormtail! No longer would they be here. No longer would they be with him. No longer would they speak, no longer would they comfort him.

_Oh my friends, my friends_ . . .

He was alone. Wormtail was alive, but he would never speak to him again. He was the cause. He was the reason he was alone!

_Don't ask me_ . . .

They always did. But no more. No more did they need answers. No more would they ask questions.

_What your sacrifice was for_ . . .

Sacrifice? What sacrifice? They were killed. Murdered! Wormtail deserved the same fate.

_Empty chairs at empty tables _. . .

Empty chairs. Padfoot took up enough space that even with a few extra chairs there wasn't any empty chairs. And the table was never empty either.

_Where my friends will sing no more_ . . .

Sing? Padfoot and Prongs? Oh, they were horrible. A slight smile shone from underneath his tears.

_Oh my friends, my friends forgive me_ . . .

Forgive me. I let Wormtail live. I let him escape. I let Prongs die. I let Padfoot die.

_That I live and you are gone_ . . .

Why should he live? There was no one to live for, no one to talk with. Everyone to remember. Someone to forget. But no one to live.

He thought he saw someone wave from Padfoot's usual chairs.

_Phantom faces at the window_ . . .

It had to be just his imagination. They were gone.

He saw a shadow and tried to find its caster. None was visible.

_Phantom shadows on the floor_ . . .

He was seeing things now. He rubbed his eyes, but the vision was there. Prongs was waving from his seat on the table. He shook his head to clear it. But there was Padfoot, lying across several chairs grinned at him.

Remus jumped to his feet and backed up.

_I can hear them now_ . . .

**Hey Moony**. That was Prongs' voice. There was no mistaking it. He backed into the wall.

**I need you to do something for me**.

Wh-What is it?

This couldn't be real. It couldn't be. Padfoot and Prongs died! They were gone! He was alone!

**I need you to live**.

Remus snorted.

Why? There's nothing to live for. Nothing!

**I need you to watch Harry.**

Why? Harry's fine! He has everyone watching him-

**Exactly.**

I can't! How can I live? How do you expect me to live without anyone there!

He felt a slight, cold touch on his shoulders.

**Listen to me. Moony, we aren't the only ones. There are others!**

No. There aren't.

Padfoot had gotten up.

**Moony, listen. **Padfoot's voice was clear and comforting. **There are other people in the world. We're waiting for you. Do your job.**

What job?

**Just trust. We'll wait. But you have to stay.**

Why should I?

**You're needed. Promise.**

No!

**Damn it, promise Moony!**

Moony hung his head.

Fine.

**Thank you.**

The voice was fading.

Wait!

**Good-bye Moony.**

The two were gone. He was alone again.

But he wouldn't leave, no matter how much he wanted to. He wouldn't join them yet. He had promised. He would stay here, with the living, and do his job. He would trust.

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The lines are from a song called _Empty ChairsAtEmpty Tables _that is fromthe play Les Miserables. I'm not sure who wrote it, but all credit for that goes to him. 


End file.
